A Nation's Magic
by Don't Insult Oliver's Cupcakes
Summary: Harry Potter is in his first year at Hogwarts and it's gonna be a crazy year because some of our beloved Nations are attending as well, at England's bidding! The story is about to be rewritten, with the craziness of seven nations plus two 2P!Nations! Will the Nations be able to keep their secret, with Hermione, the smartest witch in the school, suspicious? T for Hetalia and Arthur!
1. Chapter 1

**_Hello! This is Don't Insult Oliver's Cupcakes! I deleted my old story because_**

**_I wanted to rewrite it, so here it is! This is a bit of a Prologue, so if you like it, please review, da? ^J^_**

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_Harry Potter's POV_

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron Weasley, a red-haired freckled boy asked Harry.

Harry nodded.

"Oh-well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," mumbled Ron uncomfortably. "And have you got... you know..." He pointed at Harry's forehead. Harry nodded again, pulling back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. "So that's where You-Know-Who-?"

"Yes," said Harry, "But I can't remember it. "

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly, his eyes shining.

"Well, I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. His face was almost as red as his hair. "Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. "Er-yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy had talked about.

Before Ron could respond, however, the door to the compartment slid open to reveal a blonde boy who looked about Harry's age. He wore a white hat on his head and his T-shirt and pants were both a pretty shade of light blue. He had light purple eyes and looked very feminine. His expression was one of worry. "Um, I'm sorry to bother you, but, have you seen my dog? She's white, small and fluffy."

Harry shook his head, and the boy looked crestfallen.

Suddenly, another boy came up to the boy with the white hat and he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. The new boy had darker blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes and a cross pin in his hair. He also had a funny curl coming out of his hair. He, too, looked a bit feminine, and his face was expressionless. "Come on, Tino," he said in a dull voice. "Your dog must have run off somewhere else."

The boy with the hat, Tino, perked up instantly and nodded. He bowed to Harry and Ron, "Thank you anyways!" he said, before sliding the compartment door closed and running off.

A few minutes later, another, plumper boy came in with a bossy-looking girl asking if they had seen a toad.

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_**So, do you know who the new boys are? Do you? Do You? Of course you do ^^**_

_**Please Review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hiiiiiiiii! I'm back! Well, I never really left... but yeah, I'm here with another chapter!_**

**_Oh, and Phoenix/Singa/Jia Feng is_**

**_a 2P, but she's in Hufflepuff because she only kills/harms the people who have offended/hurt/harmed/killed_**

**_her acquaintances... wow. Her loyalty is so fatal. {But she'll kill you if you betray her so yeah.}_**

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_Harry Potter's POV_

No one was talking much, except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and which one she'd need, and a group of foreign-looking eleven-years-olds. Harry noticed that there was only one girl among their huddled form and, he noted, all of them were blond, with one exception- one of the boys had golden-brown hair and another, silver hair. The others had either golden hair, dark yellow hair or, in one boy's case, strawberry-kissed blonde hair. They were speaking in voices so low that Harry couldn't hear them.

Harry tried not to listen to Hermione. He's never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.

Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air- several people, including the golden-brown haired boy, screamed. "What the-" he gasped.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another, hardly glancing at the first-years. They seemed to be arguing. Harry heard bits and parts of the conversation before another loud scream cut through the air. It was also delivered by the golden-brown haired boy.

"AH! MATTIE! GHOSTS! DON'T WORRY, THE HERO WILL PROTECT YOU FROM BEHIND!"

The golden-brown haired boy leapt behind another boy who looked remarkably like him and the new boy, who had chin-length gold hair, sighed. Harry noticed, with an uneasy feeling, that the new boy was also slightly transparent.

"I say, what are you doing here?" a ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered, not even the golden-brown haired boy, who was cowering behind 'Mattie's' back. "New students!" said a ghost, who was called the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar happily. "My old house, you know. And-oh! Is that Arthur Kirkland I see? Alastair's younger brother?" he suddenly gasped.

Ghosts started crowding around one of the boys in the small group. Arthur, the boy, had messy gold hair, emerald-green eyes and thick, bushy eyebrows, and he nodded without saying a word.

"Alastair said he would be coming again this year-" another ghost said.

"-He said he would be with a group of other students-" another ghost interjected.

"-said he'd be more powerful-"

"ARTIE GET THEM AWAY FROM ME- I MEAN, MATTIE!"

"-unusual friends-"

"Move along now," a sharp voice cut into the murmurs that had broken out among the ghosts. "The Sorting ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. Harry heard the golden-brown haired boy breath a sigh of relief. Now that Harry looked closely, the golden-brown haired boy had a cowlick- a clump of hair that defied the laws of gravity and curved up. He also noticed that three of the students in the group, the girl and two other boys, had funny-looking curls. The girl's curl was just a strand of hair coming down from her perfect middle parting and curling weakly up. 'Mattie', the boy with chin-length gold hair, had a curl that was curved into one loopy circle, while the emotionless boy Harry had seen on the train had a short curl near his neck.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house. _Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it,_ Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing- noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth- and the hat began to sing:

**_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_**

**_but don't judge on what you see._**

**_I'll eat myself if you can find,_**

**_a smarter hat than me._**

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**_You can keep your bowler's black,_**

**_you top hats sleek and tall._**

**_For I'm Hogwart's Sorting Hat_**

**_and I can cap them all._**

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**_There's nothing hidden in your head_**

**_the Sorting Hat can't see._**

**_So try me on and I will tell you_**

**_Where you out to be._**

* * *

**_You might belong in Gryffindor,_**

**_Where dwell the brave at heart._**

**_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_**

**_set Gryffindors apart;_**

* * *

**_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_**

**_where they are just and loyal._**

**_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_**

**_and unafraid of toil;_**

* * *

**_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_**

**_if you've a ready mind._**

**_Where those of wit and learning,_**

**_will always find their kind._**

* * *

**_Or perhaps in Slytherin,_**

**_You'll make your real friends,_**

**_those cunning folk use any means_**

**_to achieve their ends._**

* * *

**_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_**

**_And don't get in a flap!_**

**_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_**

**_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_**

The whole hall burst into applause as the hate finished its song. It bowed to each four tables then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry, relieved. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witred or any of it at the moment. If only the hat mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbot, Hannah!"

So the Sorting began.

_Who's POV? Canada's POV!_

"Abbot, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Bondevik, Lukas!"

Norway calmly walked up the the hat and put it on his head. After what seemed like forever, the hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" Canada looked at the Slytherin table. They all looked like unpleasant people. He shuddered, and silently wished Norway good luck.

"Bonnefoy, Francis!"

Canada's 'papa', France, eyed the hat critically before slipping it onto his head. Again, his Sorting took a ridiculously long amount of time. Canada watched his now eleven-year-old father figure intently and, finally, he was sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Finch-Fletchy, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

By now, Canada had noticed that the hat sometimes shouted the house at once, but at others, such as Norway/Lukas and France/Francis, it took a little while to decided. "Finnigan, Seamus!" was called and the sandy-haired boy next to Harry Potter, the boy England had asked the group of Nations to protect, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute (but still shorter than the time taken to sort the two previous nations) before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione, the bushy-haired girl who had come into the Nation's compartment helping a plump boy look for his toad, ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. The hat screamed out, "GRYFFINDOR!" and she proudly walked over to join her new house-mates.

"Jones, Alfred!"

Canada perked up as his brother skipped over to the hat, shouting, "I'LL DO IT SINCE I'M THE HERO~" He was only on the stool for ten seconds before he was declared a Gryffindor. _Well, that was to be expected,_ Canada thought to himself. He hugged his bear-what was his name?-to his chest tightly. "Kumachara, what house do you think I'm in?" he whispered to his polar bear. Kumacherry looked up at him and asked who he was. Canada sighed and mumbled into his bear's fur, "I'm Canada."

"Kirkland, Arthur!"

Canada's other father-figure walked calmly to the stool and put the old hat on. He had been sitting on the stool for, perhaps, two minutes when the hat declared, "GRYFFINDOR!" and England went to join America, who was shouting, "IGGY'S IN THE SAME HOUSE AS ME!" Canada tried but failed to avoid facepalming.

"Kirkland, Oliver!"

Almost immediately, the hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" Well, of _course_ Oliver had to be a Slytherin- he was a 2P.

"Lim, Jia Feng, Phoenix!"

Canada saw some people's head cock to the side as they found Singa's name confusing. Her full name was Lim Jia Feng Phoenix, or Phoenix Lim Jia Feng. The sorting hat was on her head for about three seconds before it yelled, "HUFFLEPUFF!

This choice confused Canada greatly as Singa was a 2P. Then he remembered she killed/harmed people who offended/hurt/harmed/killed her acquaintances/friends. Now _that_ was deadly loyalty.

When Neville Longbottom, the plump boy who had lost his toad, was called, he fell over on the way to his stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally declared him a Gryffindor, Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter (not by the nations, of coursez) to give it to Romania, or Vladimir Lupei. Canada noticed that, when Romania walked up to the stool, the professor who was wearing a turban pale noticeably. Maybe because he thought Romania was a vampire? Did anyone else think the nation was a vampire?

To prove his point, whispers spread like wildfire, most of them asking if Romania was really a vampire, while others asked about how his funny little hat stayed on his head.

When Romania was sorted into Ravenclaw, he passed the hat to "MacDougal, Morag!" who was also sorted into Ravenclaw.

There were not many people left now. "Malfoy"... , "Moon"... , "Nott"... , "Parkinson"... , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"... , then "Perks, Sally-Anne"... , and then, "Potter, Harry!" As Harry, the boy whom England/Arthur asked him to protect, stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. Canada was impressed by how many people knew him. _Wow, Harry must be really famous- almost everyone in the hall knows him! I wonder what he did to get him so famous..._ Canada thought to himself.

When, at last, the hat announced him a Gryffindor, everyone at the Gryffindor table was cheering madly- everyone except Alfred, who looked a little confused. Probably, he was wondering why many people cheered Harry and not him. Canada smiled excitedly into his bear's fur. What house would he be in? Not Gryffindor, surely. He wasn't even brave enough to tell England and France, or Arthur and Francis, off at the G8 Meeting! Not Slytherin either- he wasn't cunning nor ambitious. So either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. 'So either Papa's house or Singa's house, eh?' he thought go himself. He wanted to be in the same house as his father-figure, but he also liked Hufflepuff and might be able to make friends with Singa, who could see him (most of the time).

"Steilsson, Emil!"

"Ravenclaw!"

Canada smiled to himself. Iceland only had come because Norway had threatened him. 'If you don't come, then you'll have to call me 'Big Brother' for one whole month,' Norway had said.

"Thomas, Dean."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Turpin Lisa!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Vainamoinen, Tino!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Canada was a bit confused at this choice, too. Finland was always cheerful and was very loyal, so Canada had thought he'd be in Hufflepuff. But he shrugged. Soon, it would be his turn! There was only one by before him!

"Weasley, Ron!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Zabini, Blaise!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

_What? What about me?_ Canada thought, surprised. "Come on, name can't _possibly_ be invisible..." he mumbled, yet it seemed that _his_ name, Matthew Williams, was. Canada hoped that his brother, England or France would somehow remember him and correct Professor McGonagall, but the people who spoke weren't just from the FACE family.

"Professor McGonagall!" FAE plus Singa plus Romania yelled. "You forgot Matthew!" they all shouted. Well, France shouted, "You forgot _mon petite Mathieu_!" instead but it meant the same thing.

Professor McGonagall frowned, then squinted at the scroll. Then she stared. And stared. And stared. and finally, announced, "I do not see any 'Matthew' in the list!"

Canada sweatdropped and hurried over to Professor McGonagall and tugged her robes' sleeve, clutching Kumachunky tightly to his chest. "There's my name, Professor," he said/whispered, pointing to a slightly invisible 'Matthew Williams' on the paper. The woman squinted at where he was pointing, then gasped as of the words had suddenly appeared. "Ah, I am sorry... Williams, Matthew!"

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**Poor Canada! XD Well, at least someone/some people remembered him!**

**Please review! If you think Emil/Iceland should be in a different house, please tell me! ^^**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sorry that the last chapter was so short! Yes, by my standards, it's a bit short. Never mind, this chapter will be a good, healthy 3,000-words-chapter! Enjoy! UwU_**

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**Singa's POV**

"Welcome!" Dumbledore, the headmaster, announced. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Singa saw a few first-years looking a bit surprised, some even laughing. She shrugged- the headmaster's words _were_ quite amusing. There were some mutters about him being mad, and Singa- if she wasn't Singa, she would have laughed out loud. Him, the headmaster, mad? Surely a man whose mind was not in a healthy condition should not (and would not) be teaching at a school?

But Singa could hardly laugh. She was sure the headmaster was a bit made, yes, but not insane. How could she tell? She had spent her whole _life_ living with insane people- heck, she was _brought up_ by an insane person! And yes, she would admit, that she herself was insane. But not so much that she would harm innocent people intentionally- that was Allen, and Luciano.

She looked at all the food that had magically appeared in front of her. Sighing, she picked up a fork, only to accidentally bump into something. Or some_one. _

"Oh, I'm sorry, Matthew, I didn't realize you were sitting next to me," she said hesitantly to the empty space of air next to her. His response was a very soft sigh of forgiveness. She smiled a bit at the empty space of air which was Matthew, and started eating. She had no problem with British food- she had grown up with _Oliver_.

If one looked at her now, one could hardly say she was insane.

But she was. It was useless to deny that. Her simply _being_ there was endangering everyone. But Arthur, Oliver's first player, had asked her to, and Arthur was a friend of Alfred's and Alfred was Singa's friend. If she had said 'no' to Arthur, she might offend or anger Alfred, and she'd rather die than do that.

Wow. No wonder she was put in Hufflepuff.

Speaking of Alfred, she heard his voice calling to her. "SINGAAAAAAAA! DON'T EAT THE BRITISH FOOD!"

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**Harry, the boy who lived's POV**

The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious. He was just getting started on the bacon when he heard a faint gasp from beside him. It came from Alfred, the boy with the cowlick.

"This-this is _british food!_" Harry heard a faint whisper. "THIS IS BRITISH FOOD!" Alfred howled, jumping up and looking around wildly. Suddenly, something seemed to catch his eye. "SINGAAAAAAA! DON'T EAT THE BRITISH FOOD!" he yelled to the pretty blonde Asian (Harry figure that one of her parents had been European- no way would a normal Asian have yellow hair).

Harry realized that Alfred was now backing away from the table, as if the food was contaminated with a contagious disease.

"Wait- I thought her name was Phoenix?" Ron said confusedly, his mouth nearly full.

"My dear Singa, how do you survive the horrid british cooking?" Francis called from the Ravenclaw table, pretending to faint. Vladimir smiled, his fang flashing. Something about him told Harry that Vladimir was not really a vampire, but Harry was still uneasy.

"I am _not_ your 'dear Singa'!" the blonde girl shouted at the Ravenclaw, her dark red eyes flashing. To Harry's horror, her eyes seemed to be changing color. From maroon, it was slowly getting brighter and brighter red.

Suddenly, the Gryffindor table shook as someone slammed it. "YOU BLOODY GIT, MY FOOD IS NOT BAD!" Arthur yelled in an equally loud voice. He was about to continue when Oliver, the cheerful-looking strawberry blonde, marched over to him and shouted, "Swear jar!", his arm snapping out. Arthur froze, then reluctantly dug into his pocket and placed a pound on Oliver's hand. Oliver grinned and walked back to the Slytherin table, cheerful again.

_Wait, what?_

There was a moment of silence, everyone in the hall staring at Oliver and his twin (Harry figured they had to be twins as their last names were the same. Plus, they looked alike.) Everyone, except Phoenix, the blonde Asian girl, who continued to eat normally. "Ollie," she said in a bored voice, "Arthur, you're making everyone stare."

At that, everyone in the hall resumed eating whatever they were eating before Alfred's outburst.

"That does look good," a ghost wearing a ruff said sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. Alfred had recovered from the 'horrid british food' and was hesitantly trying some potatoes. "Why don't ya have some?" Alfred asked loudly, not bothering to turn around.

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of the Gryffindor tower."

At the word 'ghost', Alfred visibly paled. "Whaddaya mean, 'Gho-" he had turned around and caught sight of Sir Nicholas and had promptly fainted. Harry, Ron and Sir Nicholas pain no attention to him and resumed their conversation which led to the discovery that Nick was nearly Headless. After they had all finished eating, the plates cleared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The whole hall fell silent.

"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered, I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quiddich trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy Weasley.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore.

"It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere- the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And, finally, this year, we have eight-um, nine transfer students, all in first year, nearly all from different countries! First, we have Mr Arthur and his twin Oliver from the United Kingdom!" Arthur, still scowling, stood up and Oliver did as well, smiling cheerfully. It was creepy how opposite they were.

"Next, we have Mr Alfred Jones from the New World, America!"

Alfred grinned, standing up and waving. "That's me!" he shouted, "I'm the hero!"

"We also have Mr Jones' twin brother, Matthew Williams, all the way from Canada!"

This time, Harry looked at the Hufflepuff table. He could see, but barely see, the outline of the near-invisible Canadian who was, to Harry's surprise, clutching a polar bear.

"Next, we have Mr Lukas Bondevik, from Norway!"

The emotionless boy from the train stood up, not saying a word, while people capped him.

"And his cousin, Emil Steilsson, all the way from the island of Iceland!"

Emil was the silver-haired boy who wasn't exactly smiling, but wasn't scowling either.

"Next, also from an island, is Phoenix Lim Jia Qing, from Singapore!"

The blonde girl stood up, slightly slouching, her eyes back to a dull red color.

"From France, we had Francis Bonnefoy!"

Francis, who had chin-length gold hair, stood up, smirking, while blowing kisses to some of the older girls. It was probably common in his country- Harry knew that the french way of greeting people was to put kiss both of their cheeks one time each.

"We are also proud to host Mr Tino Vainamoinen, who comes from Finland!"

The happy-looking Finn stood up, smiling brightly to everyone.

"And lastly, from Romania-"

"Charlie works there!" Ron hissed

"-Is Vladimir Lupei!"

The cheerful vampire-like boy stood up, waving, his one fang curling on his lip. A few first-years exclaimed in surprise, but most of the older students grinned and leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the Romanian.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long gold ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

Everyone finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who had clapped loudest. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime, off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy to even be surprised that the people in the portraits whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy lead them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much further they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step towards them they started throwing themselves at him. Harry heard a soft whimper come from someone- no doubt Alfred.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first-years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves- show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. Alfred screamed, "IGGY! GHOST!" and hid behind the thick-browed eleven-year-old boy. A lot of people stared at him and he answered defensively, "I'm not scared of it! I-I'm protecting Iggy from behind! The Hero doesn't get scared!"

"Oooooh!" Peeves said with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" he swooped suddenly at them and they all ducked. Alfred screamed again. "DON'T WORRY ARTIE! I'LL PROTECT YOU FROM BEHIND!"

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy barked.

Peeves stuck his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed. "You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?"

"Dude, Heroes don't _need_ passwords!" Alfred said loudly, his face still pale.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it-Neville needed a leg up-and found themselves in the Gryffindor Common Room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase-they were obviously in one of the towers-they found their beds at last; six four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had been brought up.

"Oooooh... Po-Feliks would so _totally_ like this," Alfred said sassily, laughing. "I wonder what's Sve is going to think when he finds that I'm not at home," Tino, the femnine boy, muttered to himself, just loud enough for Harry to hear. "Or Den, for that matter... Oh, why couldn't it be Liechtenstein?" The last part was so soft that Harry could only barely hear it, was the part which confused Harry the most. Wasn't Liechtenstein a country?

Maybe he was imagining things- after all, he was so tired he could have just dropped onto his bed and fell asleep- and he did. He fell asleep as soon as his head it the pillow.

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrel's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully-and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it-then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold-there was a burst if green light and Harry woke, sweating a shaking.

He rolled over and fell asleep again, and, when he woke the next day, he couldn't remember the dream at all.

* * *

**~Timetravel back to the night, at Dumbledore's office~**

**Dumbledora the Explora's POV**

"P-professor, I am s-sorry if I am b-bothering y-you, it is s-so late at n-night," stuttered Quirrel, who was chewing his lip. He was pale and sweating nervously, and kept wringing his hands.

"Yes?" Albus Dumbledore asked gently, beckoning for the stammering man to enter his office. "What is it that you want to speak with me about, so late at night?"

Quirrel seemed to pale even more as he took a seat, his trembling hands clutching Dumbledore's office's table. The poor man looked seriously terrified, as if someone had repeatedly given him a great shock. His face was paler than a ghosts by now, his eyes wide with fear and nervousness. He gripped the table so hard his knuckles turned white and his cheeks were drained of blood. "I-I just n-needed to t-tell you..." he began in a whispery, trembling voice, his eyes darting about the headmaster's office.

"Yes?" Albus prompted. Whatever had caused the poor man to be in such a state? "Is it about the transfers? I've already told Minerva about it."

_***flashback** **time!***_

"Albus, why are we suddenly having transfers in Hogwarts? It has never happened before!" Minerva McGonagall cried, finally confronting him.

"Ah, Minerva, about that," Albus stroked his white beard. "I actually have no clue about whatever is going on."

"That's impossible! You know everything that is going on within the school, _everything!_"

"Minerva, the Minister of Magic has told me that eight transfers were coming to our school, and that only. I am just as clueless as you. The only thing I know is that the Kirklands have a high position in both the muggle Ministry and the Ministry of Magic. That is all."

"This is outrageous! If they are working with You-Know-Who-"

"Voldemort, Minerva. Say the name, since the fear of the name only increases the fear of the person himself. And how could they possibly be working for Voldemort? He is now reduced to nothing. Yes, one day, he will rise again, but right now, he remains in hiding."

Minerva sighed, "Very well."

"But I would like you to know, Minerva, that it was not my idea to allow these transfers into my school. For now, I want you to keep an eye out for them."

_***flashback**_** _ends*_**

Quirrel nodded, his face a little paler than before (was that even possible?). "I-It is about t-the t-transfers, s-sir. About Mis-mister L-lupei," he shuddered when he said the Romanian's name, his eyes wide and full of fear. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. What was going on? How could a mere child frighten Quirrel?

"Y-you know I-I had g-gone to R-romania before, d-did you?"

Dumbledore nodded carefully. He couldn't see where the turban-wearing teacher was going. He was utterly confused. It pained him to admit it, but he was.

"Th-that boy... H-he was the v-vampire I-I had m-met there... It was h-him, only o-older!" Quirrel managed to squeak out.

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes narrowing into slits as he ushered the frightened man out.

He would have to keep an eye on the transfers too.

* * *

**_Oh, snap, what's going to happen now? _**

**_Please review! The fact I only got one review (I worship you, reviewer) is making me_**

**_kinda sad, like no one is liking my fanfic QAQ._**

**_This chapter was mainly focused on Harry, because Why Not. Oh, and yes, Singa is insane- aren't all the 2P!s insane?_**

**_If you want any pairings, please tell me. _**

**_And again, Please review!_**

(EDIT: Thanks to MIMI JONES for correcting me! ^^)


	4. Chapter 4

_**Here comes a 2,000 word chapter! Enjoy!**_

_**Oh, the reason why I didn't update this is because I was in Australia on a vacation, thus no internet.**_

* * *

**The HERO's POV**

"Tino Vay-nah-Moi-nen," Professor Flitwick called out.

"It's Vah-ee-nah-moi-nen, Professor Flitwick," Tino corrected the teacher politely.

The tiny teacher blushed a bit, but nodded. Alfred didn't care if Tino's last name was pronounced incorrectly. After all, _his_ last name was pronounced correctly, and that was the only thing that mattered- he was the hero!

* * *

**~FILLER~**

* * *

**Harry's POV**

The ghosts didn't help Harry with adjust to the school. It was always a shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. In Alfred's case, it was more than just a shock. He fainted every. Single. Time. Nearly headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class (Because of this, Alfred was never late and/or never attended some classes like History Of Magic, which was taught by a ghost).

Peeves would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your fee, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if it was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and Rob managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and threatening to lock them in the dungeons hen they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just a toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (Except, perhaps, the Weasley twins), and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students (including the transfers) all disliked/hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs Norris a good kick.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wands and saying a few funny words.

They had to study the night skies through a their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. Easily the most boring class was History Of Magic (which Alfred, whom everyone learned had Phasmophobia, did not attend), which was the only one taught by a ghost.

Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand up on a pile of book to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her class. She also had a private chat with Alfred after the class because he kept interrupting her.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started turning it into a needle. By the end of the lesson (which included Alfred and Tino accidentally burning up their matches), only Hermione Granger and Arthur Kirkland had made any difference to their matches at all. Actually, Arthur had successfully turned his match into a needle!

Professor McGonagall showed the class Arthur's needle and Hermione's half-needle (her match had gone all silver and pointy) and gave them a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. He insisted teaching all four houses at the same time, so all the transfers had immediately grouped up together for whatever reason, and Harry got to meet first-years from other houses.

Quirrell's classroom smelled strongly of Garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he's met in Romani and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. At this, the whole class turned to look a Vladimir Lupei, who was from Romania and looked like a stereotypical vampire. He even had a fang! But everyone stopped staring because Lukas Bondevik, Tino Vainamoinen and Arthur Kirkland were giving them withering looks, Vladimir was sticking his tongue out, Alfred looked like he wanted to beat someone up, and Oliver Kirkland, Emil Steilsson and Singa-Phoenix Lim Jia Qing-just looked bored yet menacing at the same time. **(A/N: I purposely left Canada out on this one. Poor Mattie :'( [He's in Hufflepuff] )**

Quirrell's turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you gift for getting rid of a zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. Some of the transfers-*cough*Alfred*cough*-actually snorted at this and declared it a lie, but everyone ignored him. When Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather. Everyone in the class also noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't any idea that they were witches or wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

* * *

_**Awesome and Fabulous heroic time-a skip brought to you by Lord Doitsu's Flying Chocolate Bunny**_

* * *

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar in his porridge.

Alfred had overheard replied while munching on a hamburger from god-knows-where, "D''ble P't''ns S''pe"

"Wha?"

"Do''le 'ti'ns ''th Sn'pe," Alfred said, slurping come Coca-Cola (also from somewhere over the rainbow) loudly.

"Sorry, can you say it again?"

Ron interrupted the 'conversation', "Double Potions with Snape and the Slytherins. Snape's the Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them- we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," said Alfred, unwrapping another burger and practically inhaling it.

Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to hundreds of owls streaming into the Great Hall, so he patiently waited for Hedwig. She hadn't brought Harry anything do far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade ad the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate.

Harry tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

_Dear Harry,_

_ I know you get your Friday afternoons off, so would you_

_ like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?_

_ I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an_

_ answer back with Hedwig._

_Hagrid._

Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled _Yes, please, see you later_ on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.

Then he was about to start eating when there was a collective gasp among all the students in the hall. Harry looked up and took in a sharp breath. Two new birds flew in, and they weren't owls. They were birds of prey.

Bald eagles.

'What were they doing here?' was Harry's first thought, his mouth dropping open. One of the bald eagles was colored normally, with a white head, curved yellow beak and chocolate-brown flight feathers. But the other was colored differently. The other one had a completely black head and brownish-whitish-greyish flight feathers. It's beak was sharp, curved and also completely grey. It's menacing eyes, instead of an alert yellow, was blood red and filled with a sort of lust. It' talons were visible while the normal bald eagles' was not.

* * *

**~Awesome, heroic and-a fabulous time travel back to an hour before!~**

* * *

**Scotland's POV**

"A howler?" Alastair Kirkland, also known as the republic of Scotland, suggested, his voice uncertain.

"What's that, da ze?"

"It's, ah, a letter that 'speaks' its contents to the receiver."

"I knew that, da ze! Because howlers or-" Im Yong Soo, also known as South Korea, was cut off as his elder brother China covered his mouth. On the other side, Denmark was arguing with Sweden. "C'mon!" Denmark shouted. "Don't you want to send a talking letter to your 'wife'?"

"I d'n't th'nk m' w'fe would w'nt th't."

"At least just say something! Like vote for using the howler!"

"N'pe."

"...I can't believe I'm saying this... but... PLEASE! I WANNA SEND A TALKING LETTER TO NORGE!"

"I d'n't th'nk he'd l'ke th't. "

"FINE! HAVE IT YOUR WAY! I'M GONNA GO AND DRINK SOME DANISH BEER!"

And somewhere near a corner, the usual 'conversation' between Austria, Hungary, Prussia and Switzerland was happening. Except Hungary was a bit hesitant in whacking Prussia's head, as if she was thinking about something else.

Suddenly, there was a loud THUD! as a mirror toppled off the shelf and hit the table. Then, a flurry of curses came _from the mirror._ Following the cusses were loud complaints that, with the cussing removed, basically said, 'Why did you do that? Is it impossible for you to keep quiet?"

The 2P!s had been spying on them. They were probably also interested in using a howler. Because Allen was just _dying_ to get a chance to embarrass Oliver and swear in front of him without having to pay the swear jar.

Alastair leaned back into his chair, thinking. He wouldn't lose anything if he refused to give them a howler, but if he _did..._

He smirked. "All right."

* * *

**~Back to present time!~**

* * *

The two 'eagles' swooped down and dropped the letters on Arthur Kirkland's plate. Arthur stared at the red envelope for a while looking stunned, his mouth moving yet making no sound. Ron was staring at the letter, equally shocked.

"It's their first week!" he said, paling. "How could they already get a-"

"Howler," Arthur said, equally pale. "It's a... howler."

Then Arthur's green eyes widened for a fraction of a second as one letter started to smoke. "IT'S A BLOODY HOWLER!" he, er, howled, grabbing Alfred's wrist and starting to drag him out of the hall. "COME ON!" he yelled, beckoning to the other transfers.

Alfred's twin-what's his name?-Matthew followed the green-eyed boy and Francis eyed the letter with distaste, as if criticizing it. Lukas, from the Slytherin table, was positively livid, his usually emotionless blue eyes furious and narrowed.

The three, Alfred, Arthur and Matthew, were barely a meter away from the table when the first letter, delivered by the normal-looking bald eagle, exploded, and a loud voice filled the hall, making many students, including Harry, cover their ears. Yet, their attempts to stop the sound from entering their ears were in vain as the loud voice still could be heard _very_ clearly even with their fingers stuffed in their ears.

"HOWLERS ORIGINATED FROM KOREA DA-ZE!"

* * *

**Who do you want to be in the Howler? One is for the 1P! nations, the other is for the 2P! nations!**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Harro dere, I'm back! Oh, and I'm confirming Singa's sexuality! She's aromantic asexual, while her 1P (Sing) _**

**_is asexual-but-not-aromantic! _**

**_Oh, and thanks to eyesopened, invisible-2-the-stars, CheshireKitKat, Prucanisthewaytogo, Solar Kitty and Syren Novade_**

**_for reviewing!_**

**_well... ENJOY!_**

* * *

**Narrator's POV**

"HOWLER'S ORIGINATED FROM KOREA DA-ZE!" a voice screamed out from the howler, making many students clap their hands over their ears. When that statement was over, all hell broke loose. It was like being in an overcrowded restaurant where everyone's voice was magically amplified 100 times by... something.

"KOREA! DON'T HOG THE LETTER!"

"IM YONG SOO! I WANT TO SPEAK TO THEM ARU!"

"ANIKI~ YOU'RE BREASTS BELONG TO ME DA-ZE!"

"AIYA ARU!"

"VE~ IS THERE-A PASTA OVER AT-A HOGWARTS? DO YOU-A NEED ME TO-A SEND IT TO-A YOU?"

"G'T AW'Y. I W'NT T' T'LK TO M' W'FE."

At this, Tino Vainamoinen, also known as Finland, blushed heavily.

"I WANNA TALK TO MAMA AND JERK ENG-ARTHUR!"

"LET ZHE AWESOME ME TALK FIRST SINCE I AM ZE AWESOMEST!"

"I WANT TO TALK TO MI AMIGO!"

"GET AWAY FROM MY IDIOTA FRATELLO YOU POTATO BAST*RD!"

"NO! I'M FIRST! I WANNA TALK TO NORGE!"

By then, the howler had attracted the attention of _every student in the hall._ Everyone was staring at it. The transfers (well, Arthur and Vladimir did) looked appalled. The teachers looked bewildered. The students were laughing. Dumbledore just looked faintly amused.

"LET ALASTAIR TALK FIRST ARU!"

"Yao-san is right. He was the person who ret them use the retter," the new voice was slightly quieter than the rest.

"EH... I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY EXCEPT YOU ALL OWE ME A YEAR'S WORTH OF WHISKY. EACH. EXCEPT LITTLE *HIC* LIECHTEN AND VASH. THEY'RE FINE."

Suddenly, there was a new voice who cut in. This voice was also slightly softer than the rest. "Mr. Arthur, how are you? Mr. Alastair told them about the talking letter and-" she-the owner of the voice was female-was cut off by an angry shout, "TAKE ANOTHER STEP NEAR HER AND YOU'RE SWISS CHEESE!"

"Bruder!"

"Lilli, stay out of this!"

There was also an interesting 'conversation' going on in the background between a certain Prussian man and a very manly Hungarian woman. It was promptly ended by a loud CLANG!- the sound of a frying pan/skillet colliding into a hard skull.

"MAMA! PAPA AND I JUST WANT TO TELL YOU THAT WE MISS YOU VERY MUCH! JERK ARTHUR! I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY TO YOU! BYE!"

At this, our dear friend with a white hat and a missing dog blushed even redder.

"YOW! YOU STEPPED ON MY FOOT!"

"O-oh.. I'm sorry, Miss Belgium!"

"NO, IT'S OKAY, LIECHTENSTEIN! OH, WHAT IS IT ROMANO? DO YOU WANT A WAFFLE?"

Everyone in the hall heard something along the lines of 'F***ing tomato bast*rd'.

Suddenly, someone from the howler started wailing. "NORGE! WHY DID YOU DISAPPEAR ON ME LIKE THAT?!

"VLAD! I JUST WANT TO TELL YOU THAT I MISS YOU VERY MUCH, AND SO DOES ALEKSANDER, EVEN THOUGH HE DOESN'T WANNA ADMIT!"

"NO I DON'T!" rang throughout the hall.

"NO VAY AM I GONNA LET AN UNAWESOME LADY INSULT ZHE AWESOME M-"

There was another loud clang.

Then there was a shout of, "NO! I'M OLDER!"

"_M'_ Older."

"NO I AM!"

Needless to say, our friend with the spiky hair was very glad that Norway wasn't there to strangle him.

But instead, he got the _frying pan treatment._

"YOU CAN THANK ME LATER, LUKAS," a female voice said. This was, of course, everyone's favourite yaoi-fan.

"GET AWAY FROM MY FRATELLO POTATO BAST*RD!"

"MAMA, LADONIA SAYS HI!"

"Peter-kun, Marcello-san asks whether you have seen where Paulette-kun went."

"OH, I DUNNO WHERE SHE WENT."

They were interrupted by a huge, amplified yawn. Coming from the world's sleepiest nation.

"ANYYYYYYWAYS, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US WHERE YOU WERE GOING!?"

"BECOME ONE WITH MOTHER RUSSIA, DA?"

There was a slight pause as someone said something.

"KOLKOLKOLKOL..."

A dark, purple aura was emitted from the howler and everyone in the hall shuddered, wondering if the temperature had dropped, and why so suddenly. The howler burst into flames and was reduced to nothing but ashes, but before it self-destructed, everyone heard the chanting stop and a new chant beginning...

"MARRYMEMARRYMEMARRYMEMARRYMEMARRYME..."

* * *

_**Marcello= Seborga**_

_**Paulette= Wy**_

_**Aleksander= Bulgaria**_

_**The person who mentioned Bulgaria's name was Moldova **_

* * *

**Harry's POV**

Harry stared, wide eyes, as the howler burst into flames. What just happened? He was about to ask Alfred what had just happened when a loud, urgent voice screamed, "OLIVER! OUT!" and the pretty Asian, Jia Feng, pushed Oliver Kirkland out of the hall, her speed almost inhumane. "GOGOGOGOGO!" she yelled at him. Then she turned to the students in the hall just as the second letter started smoking.

"IF YOU WANT TO REMAIN INNOCENT COVER YOUR EARS!" she hollered, her voice audible in the silent hall. "OR YOU'LL HEAR _HORRIBLE CURSING!"_

Harry saw that everyone in the hall looked confused, even the new transfers. But the Asian girl looked so serious and appalled that Harry immediately stuffed his fingers in his ears, but he knew that it wouldn't be enough to block out the Howler's sound.

Still, he tried.

The Howler lasted two full minutes, with one lengthy paragraph made of one particular, sweet, lady-like, refined four-letter word. Harry heard murderous screaming from outside the hall (Oliver) and he winced.

When the Howler was over, all was silent.

* * *

**Oliver's POV (Beware of Insanity!)**

Oliver heard the cursing, even from outside. His brow furrowed as he heard the first swear word hit his ears. It was Allen's voice. And the swear words just kept flowing out from Allen's dirty little mouth. Why couldn't Allen be sweet and polite like dear little Singa? He had to teach little Allie a lesson... Allen never seemed to learn... The swear jar wasn't a good enough punishment... He needed to make Allie wash his mouth clean!

"Oh, Allie," Oliver giggled, pink rings forming in his bright blue eyes. "You didn't _really_ think you could get away from me, did you? You thought you could make your mouth all muddy again without me noticing~ As your foster father and your brother and your cupcake maker, it's my job to wash you clean again! Allie, darling, I'll wash you 'till your squeaky clean~"

He giggled insanely and skipped over to one of the mirrors in the great hall and placed his hands on it and concentrated, giggling slightly as his pale, freckled hands melted through the cold surface of the mirror.

"Allen~ Daddy's coming to help you clean~" he sang, pushing his way through the mirror to the world he had come from._ You'll be so clean you won't be able to speak again for months! Or breathe, for that matter~_

_Of course, we'll have to leave you in the sun for you to dry! Hehehe~_

* * *

**_I'm not awesome enough to own Disclaimer. How could I be awesome enough to own HP and Hetalia?_**

* * *

_**Oops! I think that's... At least I hit 1,000 words! Ufufufu~ ^J^**_

_**Sorry for the short chapter... I was stuck on the 2P!Howler for a long time... Then I got rid of it and**_

_**took advantage of Allen's potty mouth. Hehehe~**_

_**Oh, and who like Insane!Oliver? Everyone, that's for sure! Well, everyone except the Hetalia Nations...**_

_**Question: Do you like my OC Singa so far?**_

_**Review please!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Ciao, me again! I'm sorry I didn't update for so long!**_

_**Please enjoy this short-ish chapter with only 1,300+ words! I**_

_**really, really, really, really hope you aren't**_

_**disappointed in the shortness of this chapter! ^^**_

* * *

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Tut tut- fame clearly isn't everything," Snape sneered, ignoring Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He heard Alfred, who sat behind up, murmuring. "Iggy, why is he picking on Harry? That's not nice! A hero doesn't pick on people!" to which Arthur replied, "Shut up, git." Harry noticed that Lukas Bondevik was _not_ sitting with his fellow Slytherins. In fact, Lukas was looking at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle (who were shaking with laughter) so intensely that if he weren't so emotionless, he would have been glaring.

Oliver was nowhere in sight. Where was the strawberry blonde? Harry hadn't seen him since the howler.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursley's, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_?

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

A few people-Alfred was one of the few-laughed. Harry caught Seamus's eye and Seamus winked. Snape, however was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter." There was another sudden sound, this time the creaking of the chair, as if someone made to stand up. Then a "Oomph!" was heard as if someone had clapped a hnd over another person's mouth.

"Sit down! Do you want to get more house points deducted?" Arthur hissed.

Harry turned around in time to see Alfred rip Arthur's hand away from his mouth. "But it's not fair! Snape is picking on Harry when Harry has OBVIOUSLY DONE NOTHING WRONG," he said the last part very loudly.

The whole class turned to look at him.

Snape stared at him.

Alfred stared back.

Snape continued staring.

Alfred continued to staring back.

Snape kept staring.

Alfred kept staring back.

Snape looked away.

Alfred still kept staring.

Snape deducted house points.

Alfred sat down.

Alfred was still staring.

Snape was glaring at him.

But Alfred was still staring.

And Alfred continued staring till the end of the lesson.

Alfred probably creeped Snape out.

Alfred creeped Harry out.

Alfred definitely hated Snape as much as Snape hated Harry.

* * *

"Hey, Alfred!" Ron called to the blonde. "We're going to meet Hagrid at five to three! Do you want to join us?"

The American pulled out of his conversation with the pretty blonde Hufflepuff girl, Phoenix. Phoenix looked kind of solemn and a little desperate too. Harry wondered what they had been talking about.

"Sure!" Alfred replied, flashing Ron a thumbs-up. Phoenix's eyes widened- Harry recognized her from Herbology, which was the class he had with the Hufflepuffs. Suddenly, she was in front of him. "Was Oliver in your class?" she asked with a hint of desperation. Harry thought for a moment, then shook his head.

Phoenix sighed. "Dang, dang, dang, dang," she muttered while walking back to Alfred. "You were simply _asking_ for it, Allen."

Harry _really_ wanted to know what the two had been talking about, but he didn't ask. He also wanted to know where Oliver Kirkland was. He was the kindest Slytherin the trio had encountered so far. Oliver even helped Hermione pick up some stuff in the corridor, and offered her a cupcake after that.

But Ron still didn't trust him. Harry wanted Ron to see that not ALL Slytherins were bad. **((A/N: You know, Harry, you're usually right, but this time I think you should listen to Ron. Don't trust Oliver, or anything related to Oliver. Especially the cupcakes.))**

* * *

After Allen had recorded the howler full of swears, he made sure to watch Oliver's mirrors to check if the crazy cupcake man-turned-child would come back. Scratch that, Allen was sure he would come back. It was only after they sent the howler that Allen realized the risk he had taken.

Oh well. Allen was a risk-taker. You couldn't be a villain without taking risks.

He gripped his nail-driven bat and examined it carefully. The nails, like always, were slightly bent, but not crooked. Allen smiled. He would need the bat in perfect shape if he wanted to battle the crazy cupcake-loving man-turned-child.

Allen swung his bat wildly around, the wood smashing through Oliver's windows, glass lodging into the hard, rough wood. Good.

Allen grabbed one of Oliver's mirror and peered into it, and, a moment later, he saw the sh*ttier version of him, Alfred, talking to Singa, his half-sister.

Allen definitely liked Singa the most of all his 'siblings', even though she hated cursing as much as Oliver. She usually accompanied him when he wanted to kill some people who had insulted him. And she also disliked Oliver's cupcakes.

Well, she was terrified of them.

The brunette laughed at the memory of he and his twin, Matt, finding out of her irregular phobia. Well, it wasn't really her fault. She had accidentally grabbed a Person-cupcake instead of a Poison-cupcake.

In the mirror, Alfred said, "That cupcake man with the pink hair and freckles? The 2P of Iggy?"

"Yes," Singa replied. "Did you see him in your class? He disappeared after the howler Allen sent."

"Actually I don't know. You could asked Iggy-the-worst-cook-in-the-world or-"

"Hey Alfred! We're going to meet Hagrid at five to three! Do you want to join us?" someone called. Alfred turned and flashed whoever-said-that a thumbs-up and a smile. Allen snorted at Alfred's silly description of Oliver's 1p.

Singa must have heard the sound because she look right at him, and her eyes widened. She muttered, "What are you doing?" as she jogged forward. Allen thought she was going to stop right in front of his mirror but, instead, she walked past it.

Just then, one of the mirror at the corner of Oliver's house started to glow.

* * *

_**Cliffhanger! ;) **_

_**This chapter doesn't have much of the three Nordics or Canada (because its**_

_**from Harry's P-O-V, mostly), but I'll definitely put them in the next chapter!**_

_**I hope you weren't disappointed that I took**_

**_2-4 weeks just to write a 1,300+ word chapter! _And I hope**

**you enjoyed it! _Adieu!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**_DISCLAIMER: I do not own HP or APH._**

**_CLAIMER: I own my OC, Singa, and the name of 2p!Kumajirou_**

**_DISCLAIMER: I do not own the OC Luna Acros. She belongs to _**_ AnimeGmr101_**_. I have permission to use her, though._**

**_CLAIMER: I own the plot, and the fanfic. Oh, and I own myself- the writer._**

**_DIS- "Get on with the story!"_**

**_Oops, sorry! I was annoying you, wasn't I? Here's the story! *thrusts chapter*_**

**_"Took you long enough!"_**

**_Yeah, yeah. Hope you enjoy the story! Review please! (I only got 2 review for the last one :( )_**

* * *

"Oh! I'm sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!" Singa cried, picking herself up. She had, very literally, ran into a second-year Hufflepuff girl. She and two other girls were some kind of trio. Singa remembered the girl's name was Luna, and that she was Romanian.

The girl, Luna, smiled quickly. "It's okay, I wasn't hurt or anything," she said quickly. "You're one of the transfers aren't you? The girl in their group?" Her long black hair swayed slightly as she bent down slightly as if she wanted to help Singa up, then stopped. The 2P noticed that Luna's eyes were blood red, like Vladimirs, or like Singa's, when she was angry.

Except Singa's were a warning sign. And blood red wasn't the most dangerous. If Singa was really, truly furious, her eyes would glow Infra Red.

She wasn't a 2P for nothing.

"Er-May I ask you -" Luna stopped herself, blushing. Singa smiled her signature 'childish' smile at Luna. Her Childish Smile was a bit like Oliver's Innocent Smile, only let creepy and more natural. It was weird. Singa's voice was high and childish and kind of husky, and also very playful. But her dark voice was low and menacing.

In fact, when she first met Alfred, it was when she was taking down a company whose boss had insulted her teacher, who was one of her temporary friend's mother. She had been fighting and had been covered in blood. And after the attack, her voice assumed its normal cheerful tone, which kind of made Alfred freak out. **((This first meeting this was based off an RP on Instagram between me and oh_crap_my_fish_why! ))**

"You may ask me anything," the blonde replied cheerfully.

Luna smiled tentatively, but before she could say something, a pale blonde guy named Draco Malfoy swaggered up to the two and smirked. "Hey you, blondie, help me tell Mr. Hero-" at here he made air-quotes-"That he's actually a dirty little mudblood who's afraid of ghosts," he sniggered.

Singa's eyes flared crimson, "Alfred is a great friend," she said coldly, her voice dropping. "And he's not afraid of ghosts. He's afraid of spirits. Get it right."

The blonde girl took pleasure in seeing Draco Malfoy look shock at the drop in pitch. But Mr. High And Mighty resumed his smirk and said, "What's up with these curls, anyways?" His arms reached forward.

Then it happened.

It wasn't easy to see Singa's curl, you see, because it was magically pinned backwards, instead of springing out from her scalp. But it was there, and it was a curl, and it was a _nation's curl._

So when Mister Blonde Guy touched it, her instinct kicked in.

Her arm shot out and slammed his head down until it hit the floor and she was crouched over him. "Don't. Touch. THAT!" she yelled, her wooden stick spearing in her hands, and she brought it down on his body, manically grinning inwardly at the appalled look on his face. Then she grabbed the guy's wrist and flipped him so he crashed down. "DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Then she grabbed her stick and pointed it threateningly at him, her eyes a glowing dark red. From the corner of her eye, she saw Luna looked both horrified and terrified, as if Singa was a monster.

Singa was. She knew it. And she wasn't even at her full power yet.

And she didn't care that the Hogwarts teachers were surrounding her.

* * *

**An hour later~**

* * *

"You did _what?" _Alfred laughed, his blue eyes sparkling.

Singa gave him a half-smile. They were sitting on the bench outside the classroom Singa had just come out of (Transfiguration classroom) and Singa had told Alfred what had happened.

"I flipped him and threatened him. Now I wish I had smashed his face with my stick..." Suddenly, she lowered her voice. "But, now I think about it, people are going to wonder how I got that stick from thin air. I mean, I barely even know magic!"

Alfred was still grinning. "At least you took care of-" he changed into Arthur's voice-"that Malfoy git."

The blonde girl couldn't help but smiling, but the smile vanished when she saw something. She stared at something behind Alfred, and her mouth opened slightly, her eyes widened in complete surprise. She sat up straight and stiffly, staring past Alfred at something else.

"Singa, what are you looking at?" Alfred asked curiously. He turned around. He didn't see anything out of place. Moving pictures, check. A lot of students, check. Moving staircases, check. So what was the 2P looking at?

Then he saw it.

His eyes widened, his mouth fell open, and his posture mirrored Singa's. Some people in the hallway noticed them and tried to see what they were so surprised about.

Alfred wondered why Singa was so surprised. She had done it and seen it before. But he hadn't. It was so weird.

A glowing mirror.

With a person coming out of it.

And Alfred knew that person. He knew it anywhere, because it was him. The reason why he couldn't be a real hero. the person who was the villain.

Allen.

_Crap, _Alfred thought. _What is the Villain-me doing here?_

Then light dawned on him. Of course! Allen had sent that unheroic howler to Oliver, who hated curses, and now Oliver wanted to kill Allen. What side should Alfred fight on?

A good question. What side _should_ he fight on? The Hero should fight the Villain! But, this time, Alfred wasn't sure who was the villain.

* * *

Matthew was the first to notice Allen- the mirror was next to him! And it had started to glow! Matthew clutched Kumakichi tightly as the 2p's head surfaced. "Gotta. Get Out!" He said breathlessly, falling onto the floor with a loud THUNK! There was a shriek from Singa- "ALLEN?!" And the people who hadn't been staring now were. Great job, Singa! Matthew tapped Allen's shoulder gently with one finger, but, right after that, Allen was running.

"THE F*CKING CUPCAKE MAN IS AFTER ME!" he yelled to Singa, gripping his signature nail-driven bat. People recognized his voice from the howler.

"AND SO IS MY F*CKING BROTHER AND HIS F*CKING PETS!" he continued.

Matthew knew Allen meant those 'hate' words, yet he couldn't feel rage in him. Maybe because Matthew knew Allen cared for his brother. Deep down. Deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep down.

"IT'S YOUR OWN FAULT!" Singa yelled back. "YOU SENT HIM THAT HOWLER!" Singa, even when angry, did not curse. Like Oliver, she hated cursing.

Next to Matthew, the mirror started to glow again. This time, Matthew's own 2p, Matt, tumbled out and landed on the ground, one hand in front of him. Matt grinned at his near-invisible 1p, then, gripping his hockey stick like a bat, he ran after Allen.

"This is what you get for stealing Kumakari's ice cream!" he yelled, swinging his hockey stick. Allen blocked it with his bat, and the two began sparring with two very dangerous weapons. They might not look dangerous, but they were.

You see, each 2p has their own specific 'Killing Weapon', aka their favourite weapon. Flavio and Oliver used kitchen knives. Luciano used throwing knives. Allen used his bat. Matt used his hockey stick. Nikolai used his pipe. Singa used her penknife, etc.

And the 2ps were very skilled in the art of killing.

Matthew clutched his bear so tightly it let out a squeak, then it asked who he was. Matthew mumbled into the bear's fur, "I'm Canada."

The mirror glowed again, and, this time, Matt's moose, Glacier, came galloping out. Matt stepped to the side and Glacier, not even slowing down, trampled over Alfred's 2p, who cursed.

"Oliver should be coming out in a minute or so," Matt threatened his brother, smirking. Many students' brow wrinkled. Matthew could practically read their minds. They recognized Oliver's name.

Suddenly, Alfred spoke up. "Hey, Allen. People are staring. Usually, its great and all if people are staring at the 'action' but..."

Matthew tensed up. His brother sounded so serious!

"Why aren't you staring at the Hero instead?" Alfred finished, laughing, and flashed everyone the peace sign.

Matthew's palm gave an enthusiastic hello to his forehead.

"Who are you?" Kumasomething asked.

"I'm Canada," he mumbled.

Singa stepped forward and glared at her half brothers. "Now that you've beaten Allen up, get back behind the mirror! Oliver's gonna be coming, and it'll be too troublesome to get rid of the blood!" she said sternly, then covered her mouth. Matthew sighed. People are going to be _really _suspicious about them now.

The mirror started glowing again.

"Go! Go!" Singa yelled, shoving the two brothers in the other direction. "Go kill each other with your sweet brotherly love if you must, but don't do it here!"

Allen started to get up (yes, he was still on the floor. Singa had actually kicked him, not shoved him), but was pinned back down again by Glacier. The brunette glared at his brother, who laughed evilly, then removed the moose.

When Allen actually got up, Singa gave both of them a glare. "Go back to your house and kill each other," she said sternly.

Matt thought about it, stroking his moose thoughtfully.

Then Allen smirked.

"Sure," he said agreeably. "But you're coming with us."

Then he grabbed Singa's arm and dragged her as he ran towards the mirror on the other side of the hall. Since, she was in he body of an eleven-year-old, she didn't have enough strength to fight back.

There were murmurs about getting the teachers in the crowd. Some people wanted to take on Allen and Matt but were afraid to. Some girls were giggling about how 'hot' they were. Matthew whispered to Kumacherry, "I wonder what will happen now, eh?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada! You know, the guy who feeds you?"

Just as Kumalicky was asking for some food, there was a low, threatening growl from the other hall. Then there were shouts of, "EXPELLIARMUS!" and "STUPEFY!". Matthew's eyes widened as he realized he recognized the growl.

"WHAT IS THAT THING?" someone cried.

Matthew's eyes widened even more. Could it be...? Was it...? Were they attacking...?

"IT'S LIKE A BLACK POLAR BEAR!"

That was all the confirmation Matthew needed to unleash his 'Canadian Rage' form. He dropped Kumajomo and sprinted towards the other hall, wild fury in his eyes. They were attacking KUMAKARI!

Matthew gritted his teeth as he skidded around the corner. Which demon would DARE to attack sweet Kumajirou's counterpart?!

He knew who.

Quirrel.

"NO!" Matthew yelled, and really did yell, a real, yell that was as loud as Alfred's normal voice, which was saying something.

He bolted in front of Kumakari who was growling viciously and flung his arms wide, just as Quirrel yelled, "STUPEFY!", which was the same time Alfred yelled, "CANADA!" and tackled Quirrel.

But it was too late.

A bolt of red light shot out of Quirrel's wand and zipped through the air and, before Matthew could react, hit the Canadian's chest, hard.

* * *

_*flashback- With Allen*_

_The mirror started to glow. _

_"Oh, crap!" Allen yelled as he threw the mirror in his hand down, making the glass shatter. He grabbed his bat and swung it to the window and it broke cleanly. He jumped out of it, his legs moving even before he hit the ground. The only place he thought of going to- Matt's house! He didn't want to go to Francois' house. And Oliver's house was a big no-no. So his sh*tty brother's house was the only option he could think of._

_"That f*cking cupcake man is f*cking crazy," he muttered as he swung his bat and knocked Matt's front door down. A second later, he was faced by an angry Matt, who was wielding a hockey stick._

_"What the frick are you doing here?" he asked dangerously, murder in his eyes. _

_"The f*cking cupcake man!" Allen yelled. "Now let me hide!"_

_Matt blocked his way. "No, not after breaking into my house," he glared. "You have to deal with me before Ollie gets to kill you."_

Crap! I should have expected that! _Allen cursed himself. He wasn't the smartest person in the world, after all._

_"Fine! Bring it on! I can beat you with on f*cking arm tied behind my back!" Allen snarled._

_Suffice it to say that this fight lasted about forty five minutes before Allen realized Oliver wasn't there yet. And because he had paused, Matt had gotten a 'lucky hit' Allen's head, and Allen accidentally clobbered Glacier, who had been peacefully watching._

_Glacier was as furious as Singa._

_Which was saying something._

_There was a knock door, an a sing-song voice called out. "Allie, darling~ Come out to eat a cupcake~"_

_Allen growled under his breath. He swore, using many F-words, and leaped into the mirror while holding his bat._

* * *

**_Oh-ho! Cliffhanger! Will Canada be alright? Where is Allen and Matt taking Singa? _**

**_Will Singa come back? Where is Oliver? Am I evil for leaving you in suspense? Will I_**

**_stop asking questions? Will you review? Did you like the story?_**

**_Should I stop talking and work on the next chapter now?_**


	8. Chapter 8

Harry clapped a hand to his mouth in horror when Matthew got hit by the spell, _right in the chest._ "Matthew!" he heard Hermione shriek and he felt her brush past him as she hurried over to Matthew. But then, she stopped. Because Matthew wasn't lying on the ground. He was still standing upright.

And he looked furious.

Harry recognized the aura around his housemate's brother. Mrs. Figg's best friend had that same aura when a guy name Daniel broke the heels of her shoes. The aura had a name- Canadian Rage.

Matthew raised the hockey stick her was holding and charged at Professor Quirrell, Alfred leaping out of the way just in time as the hockey stick smashed down onto Quirrell's hip. The man shrieked in pain, and Harry heard Professor Flitwick yelling, "That's quite enough!"

The students knew how to deal with furious teacher- look at your feet in shame, or even start crying.

But the teachers did _not_ know how to deal with a furious-possibly _murderous_-student who wielded a hockey stick _extremely_ well.

Harry was too stunned to move as he watched Matthew, his face black with rage, take another swing at Quirrell. There was a loud _crack!_ as the hockey stick landed on Quirrel's wrist, easily snapping it.

But Matthew wasn't done yet.

* * *

Whack!

Snap!

Whack!

Snap!

Canada grinned as he heard the satisfying crack of the evil professor's bones. He deserved it- attacking poor, innocent Kumakari! Kuma didn't do anything wrong, yet the cruel teacher had tried to kill the adorable black ice-cream-loving polar bear! He deserved to be _exterminated!_

Suddenly, when he tried to take another swing at the appalled, injured teacher, he found that he couldn't. Someone was holding him back. He twisted his head to see who it was, violet eyes furious, but they calmed down when they met the soothing ocean in Norway's eyes and the mischievous fire in Romania.

"Not now, Canada," Romania soothed, patting the nation's back. The two countries let go to the now-calm nation and, before Canada's knees gave way, he found himself embraced again.

"_Mathieu, _I am sure Quirrell meant no harm to him," France murmured.

"Papa... _Je suis désolé..."_

There was another loud crack and Canada winced- America had decided to 'put Quirrell out of his misery' and knock him out by whacking him with a heavy-looking leather bound book. The blonde felt something push his leg and he looked down. He was rapidly fading.

"Kuma, are you okay? I didn't mean to throw you," he murmured to the fluffy white polar bear, who gave him the polar bear-version of a smile. "I'm hungry," he said, and Kumakari echoed with an, "I'm hungry, too."

Canada smiled at the two and, with France's help, stood up, apologized profusely to the teachers (his face was completely red, not that anyone noticed. The teachers found it weird that thin air was apologizing to them) and led the two polar bears to the kitchen. The Weasley twins had told Alfred how to get into the kitchen, and Alfred had told Canada.

"Sir! How may we be of service?" a house elf squeaked.

"Do you have some ice cream? And pancakes?" Canada asked.

"We will bring it to you as fast as we can, sir!"

A few seconds later, the house-elf appeared again with a bowl of vanilla ice cream and a plate of warm pancakes with maple syrup. Canada smiled at the house elf before giving the food to the two Kumas.

* * *

_Why did Vladimir call Matthew 'Canada'? And why was that polar bear thing black? And why did Matthew call Francis his 'papa'? Why did those two guys, Allen and Matt, appear anyways? And how did they do it? And why did they look like the older versions of Matthew and Alfred? And where did they take Phoenix? And if they were twins, why were they trying to injured each other? And where's Oliver?_

Hermione bombarded herself with questions as she watched the Canadian boy walk away. The new students were suspicious. _I mean, they're stereotypes of the country they come from! Seriously! Well, except Oliver and Phoenix. Oliver is the exact opposite of Arthur! That's so weird!_

Suddenly, the brunette realized something. "Allen called Oliver the 'crazy cupcake man'. _Man._ Not boy. Man!" she muttered to herself. _So weird... I have to tell Harry and Ron!_

She thought back to the howler Alfred's 'friends' had sent. _Come to think of it, there's someone who called the man who first spoke 'Korea', and later two people called the other 'Belgium' and 'Liechtenstein'. Belgium is a European country, isn't it? And Liechtenstein seems too long to be a name... So, if I'm right, Liechtenstein must be the name of another country!_

_And 'Ladonia' seems like a weird name... What is a ladonia anyways? If those people are named after countries then Ladonia must be a country too! I should check the world map later..._

* * *

The next day, Oliver Kirkland came back, covered in blood. Of Singa, there was no sign. And Hermione? Still as suspicious as ever.

She checked the globe the day before. Liechtenstein and Belgium were indeed countries, but 'Ladonia' was not. She still had a lot of research to do.

* * *

At three thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns towards a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounes to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty or so broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George complain about the school brooms, saying that some if them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived, She had short gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she barked.

"THE HERO!" Alfred screeched, dashing into the lawn suddenly, panting hard. A few students sniggered, and Arthur Kirkland slapped the back of Alfred's head.

Madam Hooch sighed, "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!' everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. The others included Alfred, Arthur, Lukas Bondevik and Oliver Kirkland from Slytherin and Tino. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, though Harry; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. When she approached Arthur, she found no faults and simply gave him a brief nod. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been gripping the broom wrongly for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "keep your brooms steady, rise a few fet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed of hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips. "Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle- twelve feet, twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and-

WHAM.

A thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay... not facedown on the grass in a heap, but on... Alfred?

* * *

When Alfred saw the boy falling, he couldn't do nothing. That was what heroes were for- to save people from injury! He was fast- he could make it in time! He breathed in and rushed towards the spot where Neville would land... threw up his arms... braced for the impact...

WHAM.

_Woah,_ Alfred though dizzily, his whole body numb. _This Neville boy is really heavy!_

* * *

Madam Hooch bent over Neville and Alfred, her face as white as the plumper boy's. "Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy- it's all right, up you get." She spun to face a dazed Alfred. "AND YOU!" she thundered, her eyes flashing. "RISKING YOURSELF LIKE THAT! YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN SERIOUSLY INJURED!"

Alfred grinned, his face pale. "I'm alright," he said dazedly.

"Hmph. You are a foolish boy, yes, but you are brave. None of you is to move while I take these two boys to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'!" she said to the rest of the classes.

"The Hero doesn't need to go to the hos-"

"Yes, you do. Come with me, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch who had one arm around him and her hand gripping Alfred's arm firmly. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in... all except Oliver, who was grinning wickedly (like usual) and Lukas, who was, for once, looking angry.

"Shut up, Draco!" Tino shouted just as Parvati Patil snapped, "Shut up, Malfoy!"

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" mocked Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" crowed Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him!" The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

Tino looked like he wanted to intervene, and so did Arthur, but Lukas held them back, speaking to them softly. So Lukas was sticking up for Malfoy, huh? Oliver was just standing there, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find- how about- up a tree?"

"Give it _here_!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he _could_ fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak, he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom, ignoring Hermione Granger as she tried to stop him. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground. Just before he soared up, up, into the air, he heard Lukas Bondevik whisper, "Look."

Air rushed through Harry's hair, and his robes whipped out behind him- and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being taught- this was easy, this was _wonderful._ He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it a little higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground, and an admiring whoop from Ron.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. It gave him satisfaction to see Malfoy's stunned face.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looked worried.

Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot towards Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry maxe a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry taunted his rival.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground.

Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to dall. He leaned forward and pointes his broom handle down- next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball- wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching- he stretched out his hand- a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!"

His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them.

* * *

***flashback- before Harry and Malfoy had a showdown***

Minerva McGonagall was writing in a notebook Albus had given her again. She had placed a tracking charm on the new transfers-even Phoenix, who had suddenly disappeared (but she hadn't recorded hers yet)-and she was recording their actions. She had finished writing some of the records of some of the Gryffindor and Slytherin transfers. The records were written two days ago. Minerva read through Alfred's record.

Name: Alfred F Jones

What country is he from? America

Wakes up at 6:30 am. Bothers Arthur Kirkland until he wakes up. Goes down to the kitchen-how did he find it?-before breakfast to eat hamburgers. During breakfast, he eats a ton despite having stuffed himself silly. Calls himself the 'Hero'. Always seems to forget his brother.

Lessons- History of Magic (8am to 9am): Skips it completely. Is afraid of ghosts, which is normal, but no other students have reacted like him. It is unknown where he went. Probably the kitchen.

Charms (9am to 10am): Comes in late, panting. Pairs up with Arthur, who scolds him. Nothing unusual happened.

Herbology (10am to 11am): Groups up with Phoenix (girl who disappeared) and his brother. Can't seem to remember his brothers' names. I can't, either (The last part was a side note from Albus Dumbledore)

~Lunch Break~

Transfiguration: Completely fails in Tramsfiguration, though he tries hard.

Alfred F Jones skips the rest of his lessons to go walk near the lake and shows up for dinner.

Minerva sighed, and was about to read the next one when she suddenly noticed someone. Harry Potter! And he was flying a broom... with such skill. One thought pushed itself into Minerva McGonagall's stern mind- _Quidditch._

* * *

***time skip to dinner!***

"Woah, dude, you really did that?" Alfred, who was seemingly unhurt, yelled excitedly. "AWESOME! YOU ARE WORTHY TO BE MY SIDEKICK!"

Harry rubbed his ear, already regretting telling Alfred about what had happened after he had been dragged to the hospital wing.

* * *

**_OMG I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT HAVING UPDATED FOR SO SO_**

**_SO SO SO SO SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_**

**_LONG! I HOPE YOU LIKED IT! YOU CAN HATE ME AS MUCH AS YOU WANT, I _**

**_DESERVE IT QAQ_**

**_I'M SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!_**

P.S. Please review! ;)


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